And once on a bathroom floor, with his back against the bath, when he said, “I’m sorry I did this to you,” and I was too far gone to answer him properly, which I have regretted ever since.

So it was not new.

What was new was the day he had chosen to say it on.

Of all the mornings in ten years, he picked the one where it was finished, where the bag was by the door and my coat was on and there were two cribs in a yellow room four hours from being used, and he stood in the doorway and told me it had been his fault.

I did not understand that then.